


Say My Name

by itsfnickingawesomeness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsfnickingawesomeness/pseuds/itsfnickingawesomeness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt "I work as a barista and you're a businessman who never gets off your phone, so in retaliation I'm going to find increasingly ridiculous ways to spell your name."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say My Name

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my roommate Conor, who I love dearly <3

Honestly, Harry didn’t _want_ to be working at an over-priced coffee shop. He didn’t _want_ to be career-less at 24, living paycheck to paycheck, getting extra money from Ron’s rent (when he actually pays it). But, hey, sometimes you just can’t stop life from fucking you over. Of course, choosing any other major besides English might have helped, but Harry trying to study science or math was like trying to learn magic spells.  Most of all, Harry didn’t _want_ to have to deal with arrogant hipsters and harangued businesspeople all day, but unfortunately that’s the only clientele that ever came into the little hole in the wall shop. Like this twat standing before him. He’d never seen the suited man in here before today, but perhaps he was trying a new place, or had just moved here. Either way, Harry was already placing a bet (with himself) on what kind of coffee he would order.

“Thanks for choosing The Leaky Mug, how can I help you today?” he intoned, leaning on his left elbow on the countertop. All he could see of his next customer was a head of shiny platinum blonde hair, as the other man was looking down and busily tapping away at his phone. Harry cleared his throat, failing to gain the guy’s attention. “Hey- what can I get you?” he said louder. The blonde finally glanced up, his raised eyebrow suggesting that Harry was in the wrong here.

Eyes flicking back down to his phone almost immediately, the blonde drawled, “Venti macchiato. Double shot, soy, no whip, with foam and extra sugar.”

If he wouldn’t get in trouble with his boss- Dumbledore may seem like a crazy hippie, but he cracked down like no other on manners- Harry would’ve rolled his eyes, or snorted outright. He could just smell the smarminess radiating off of the guy, and his order was so typical of a suit (complicated, sugary, and not real coffee). Sighing, Harry rang it up on the cash register, asking, “Anything else?” The brief head shake (that looked more like a twitch than anything else) would have to do. Harry then grabbed a cup and his sharpie, reciting, “What name would you like on that?” Yet again, the man didn’t seem to have heard, not looking up from his phone, which seemed to be taking too long to complete a task, if the frustrated tapping and swiping was any indication. Furrowing his brows, Harry raised his voice again, saying “ _What name_?”

Looking up again with a flick to get his bangs out of his face, the blonde’s lip twitched, as if Harry was just so _irksome_. “Draco Malfoy.” came the clipped response, before he raised his phone to his ear to answer a call, snapping out a “ _Yes?_ ” Without further looking at Harry, Malfoy thrust his credit card at him, tapping it with a finger.

Now glaring at the other man, Harry took it and looked down at the cup in his hand. What kind of name was _Draco Malfoy?_ And this asshole couldn’t even get off of his phone long enough to properly order his coffee. Now smirking a bit, feeling a bit vindictive- and it was petty, it really was, but Harry never said that he was mature- Harry scrawled ‘Drako Malfoi’ on the side of the blue cup and passed it to be filled.

As his coworker Pavarti made the order and filled the cup, she passed it to her twin Padma, who frowned at the cup before calling out the name. “Drahco… Mal-fo-ee?” Still vehemently arguing with whoever was on the other side of the phone call, Draco stalked over to get his cup, lip curling the slightest bit at the ridiculous spelling of his name. Harry snickered into his fist, waving cheerily when the blonde actually looked up for the first time just to sneer at him.

Malfoy left the coffee shop, briefcase in one hand, coffee in the other, and phone still shoved against his ear. Harry only had two thoughts running through his mind at that point- Malfoy would be incredibly fun to annoy, and _damn it the man was actually hot_. This would make his days a whole lot more interesting.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Harry was sitting on the counter before the morning rush, wondering if Malfoy would come in again. The shop was most likely on his way to work, and the coffee was incredibly good. Because, even though it sounded lame, pushing Malfoy’s buttons could easily become one of his favorite past-times. He was startled out of his reverie by his boss, Albus Dumbledore, crashing into the boxes of cups and sending them flying. Sighing, Harry went to go help him up, the (much) older man grumbling to himself.

“All right there, Dumbledore?” he asked once he was upright. Dumbledore nodded serenely, looking completely peaceful. That was the weird thing about Dumbledore- he always was calm and totally hippie-like (Harry was certain the beard was a hiding spot for weed), but he’d seen the old man go off at customers who were disrespectful or troublesome, and it was _terrifying_.

The bearded man peered at him, before smiling. “Ah, yes Harry, I’m fine. Your aura is particularly bright today.” And with that Dumbledore walked away, to do God knows what. Shaking his head, Harry went back to his post, hoping to see his new source of entertainment again. Sure enough, within a couple hours Harry saw a bright blonde head in the line for coffee. His mood instantly lightened, and he sped through the next few orders. Malfoy stepped up to the counter, this time already talking to someone on the phone. He looked immensely irritated, which Harry just assumed was his default facial expression. After another moment- and an eye roll- the blonde hit mute and muttered, “Venti macchiato. Double shot, soy, no whip, with foam and extra sugar. Draco Malfoy.” With a flick of his credit card in his free hand, he resumed his phone call, not paying Harry any more attention.

Lips curling into a smirk again, Harry grabbed a cup (with a bit more flourish than strictly necessary), an idea already in mind. As Malfoy moved down to wait with the rest of the customers, Harry scribbled “Draycoo Malloy” on the cup and passed it down, waiting with a grin. Sure enough, when Neville called out “Dray-coo Mall-oi”, Malfoy curled his lip, not paying as much attention to his phone call anymore. The blonde shot a venomous look at Harry, who simply put on an innocent face and waved goodbye. The inelegant snort could be heard from behind the register, and Harry couldn’t help but snicker once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Wednesday morning Harry was actually looking forward to work, which was a first in…. however long he’d been working there. He was practically bouncing at the register, which of course Hermione picked up on- she was too smart for anyone’s good. “What’s got you in such high spirits?” she asked as she came in to buy her early-morning coffee.

Shrugging, he replied, “Some twat with a ridiculous name’s been coming in here. It’s funny to see how uppity and pissy he gets when he sees how ridiculous I spell it.” Hermione looked at him sternly, but her mouth twitched, belying her amusement. Though she seemed to be stuffy, the full-time master’s student knew what it was like to work at a shitty job- you had to find fun where you could get it.

“Well, just don’t get in trouble with Dumbledore.” she warned, taking her coffee with a smile from Pavarti. “Oh, also,” she added over her shoulder, “when you see Ron, do remind him that he has to come to my family’s dinner party tomorrow night. Thanks!” With a quick wave she left, never wanting to be late to her classes.

The rest of the morning rush passed quickly, and Harry watched every time the door opened for a pale, pointy face, grinning largely when Malfoy finally entered the shop. He was going to get a better reaction out of the prim businessman if it was the last thing he did. The blonde finally made it up to the counter, this time tapping away at a palm sized tablet. “Venti-”

Harry interrupted him before he could continue, “Venti macchiato. Double shot, soy, no whip, with foam and extra sugar. For Draco Malfoy.” Malfoy looked up in surprise, eyebrows quickly falling back into a glare. Harry raised his hands, smiling sunnily. “Third day in a row, I have a good memory. Plus, it’s a pretty unique order.” he finished with a cheeky grin.

Malfoy seemed to not know whether to look please or annoyed. “Yes, that’s my order, and that is my name. Draco. Malfoy.” He enunciated his words slowly and pointedly before walking away, everything about his tone screaming derision. Pulling the cap off of his sharpie, Harry wrote “Drake Mallory” on his cup.

When this name was called, Malfoy outright scowled, gingerly taking the cup like it was radioactive. He glared coldly at the drink, then at Neville (who flinched and took a step back), and then finally he glared back at Harry. Harry, however, was busy pretending to organize his counter space. With an audible huff, Malfoy stormed out of the store, tablet forgotten in his hand. Laughing out loud, Harry mentally gave himself a pat on the back and wondered how much more the blonde could take, and if it was helping Malfoy pay any attention to his barista.

 

* * *

 

 

      On Thursday- a wet, cold, and overall miserable morning- Malfoy showed up to the coffee shop drenched and seemingly already in a terrible mood. Harry immediately stood up straighter- it was his last day of work for the week, and he wanted to make it count. Malfoy came up to the counter, and simply looked at Harry, one eyebrow raised. After a moment of silence, he rolled his eyes primly and prompted, “Well, since you seem to have my order memorized, go ahead.” Nodding, Harry entered it into the computer, running a hand through his hair. Malfoy brandished his card with a wave, but drew it back before Harry could take it. Crossing his arms, Harry glared right back at Malfoy.

      “Since you seem to be utterly incapable of spelling my name right, I’ll spell it out for you. D-R-A-C-O.  M-A-L-F-O-Y. Got it?” Harry nodded, deadpan, as he took Malfoy’s card and wrote the name on the cup. He watched it make its way down the line, Malfoy immediately pulling out his phone to check his email (or whatever he was always doing on that stupid thing) in the shop where it was dry. A minute later, Padma called out, “….Ducko Mallard?”

      Positively seething, Malfoy grabbed the coffee cup, but instead of leaving immediately like he usually did, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and stomped back over to Harry’s counter. Fairly slamming the coffee on the wooden top, Malfoy hissed, “What exactly is your _fucking_ problem?”

     Harry tried to keep his smirk away. Really, he did. “I’m getting you coffee.”

     Taking a breath, Malfoy replied tightly, “I meant my _name_. I even spelled it out for you- are you so pathetically dim-witted that you can’t even write out someone’s name correctly?”

     “Sorry, sometimes it’s hard to hear over the racket of you yelling into or tapping your phone.” Harry shot back, raising his eyebrow defiantly.

     He had the pleasure of seeing Malfoy speechless. “Really? So this is all just some petty… lesson teaching? What are you, five?” he finally responded, looking exasperated and beyond irritated and more animated that Harry had seen him all week.

      Shrugging, Harry admitted, “Well, I did have another reason, if you wanna calm down enough to hear it.” His heart was pounding, but he was always recklessly brave, and this situation was no different.

      Draco sneered at him. “Oh, do tell.”

     “Had to get your attention to ask you on a date somehow.”

      The frank answer seemed to shock Malfoy, who froze, looked Harry up and down, processed for a moment, and then seemed to make a decision. “I see. Well, next time simply asking will do the trick. No need to start my day off with irritating me.” He paused again, running a hand over his damp hair to smooth it down. “…Would tomorrow evening work for you?”

      Just refraining from doing a fist bump or a goldfish impersonation, Harry coughed, feeling his cheeks warm. “Um- yea, great- I know a place. Meet you outside here at eight?”

      A hint of a smirk now playing on his own features, Malfoy gathered up his things once more. “Excellent. I will see you then, Harry.” Harry startled, before remembering his name tag, then blushing over again at his ridiculousness. He nodded to Malfoy, giving him a small smile as he turned to leave. However, halfway to the door, the blonde paused before speaking over his shoulder. “And for God’s sake, my name is Draco- you better get it right next time.”


End file.
